


Spring in London

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: It's spring in London and all is well.





	Spring in London

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Banter, bad flirting. 
> 
> **A/N:** Written for Slythindor100's April prompt# 205: April showers/rain, for HD_fluff April prompt # 134: [Picture of rain](http://hd-fluff.livejournal.com/731302.html), and for HP_Coffeehouse"> prompt # 1: Dark Roast. 
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Spring in London

~

The moment Harry stepped out of the Ministry that evening it began raining. Again. 

Sighing, he hurried along, head bowed as he tried to keep rain from spattering on his glasses. Impervius Charms were all well and good, but they only lasted so long, and didn’t serve against the steady downpour that characterised spring in London. 

Preoccupied with the next day’s morning meeting agenda, he trudged along, and collided with someone. Hot liquid spilled over Harry’s leg and he jumped back. 

“Watch it, you id— Oh, it’s you.”

Harry wiped his glasses off and stared straight into Draco Malfoy’s face. “Malfoy?” 

Malfoy, holding a half-full cup, glared at him. “Brilliant. This just isn’t going to be my evening, is it?” 

Harry scowled. “Nor mine, apparently.” Looking down at his trousers, which now had a dark, wet patch, he said, “Great. I seem to be wearing your beverage.”

“That’s what happens when you run smack into someone carrying a full cup of coffee, you idiot,” Malfoy snapped. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “At least _you’re_ not wearing it,” he pointed out. “Plus, shouldn’t you have been paying attention, too?” 

“Are you saying this was my fault?” Malfoy snapped. 

After mentally counting to ten in his head, Harry exhaled. “Look,” he said, “having a shouting match with you isn’t high on my list of things I’d like to do this evening. Sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going. How about I replace your coffee and we call it even?” 

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “You want to buy me coffee?” 

Harry shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I don’t drink the stuff, but it’s only fair I replace yours since I spilled it.” He looked around, squinting. “Where’s the closest place that sells coffee? What about that corner place?” 

Malfoy sniffed. “Oh no. If you’re buying me coffee, it’s going to be a decent brew. I’ll have you know I only drink certain blends.”

“Of course you do,” Harry muttered dryly. “The most expensive sort, I bet?” 

Malfoy smirked. “I have excellent taste.” 

“That’s a yes.” 

Malfoy sneered. “Don’t worry, you can afford it. Now, shall we?” 

Harry squared his shoulders. “Right, lead on.” 

Malfoy nodded sharply before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Harry to follow. Trailing behind Malfoy wasn’t that bad, however. The view was certainly spectacular, Harry mused, eyeing his arse with interest. Maybe the evening was looking up.

When they entered the coffee place, Harry blinked. The contrast to the grey, overcast outdoors was startling. It was warm, inviting, with cosy booths and tables, and a couple of crackling fireplaces with large, squishy armchairs in front of them. 

And the aroma! Harry inhaled, smiling. “It smells amazing in here.” 

“Coffee,” Malfoy said succinctly. “This way.” 

Leading him to the counter, Malfoy pointed to the list of available beverages. “Potter, you may order me a large dark roast, white, and a sprinkle of cinnamon.” 

Dazed, Harry nodded. “Right.” He smiled at the barista. “What he said.” 

“And for you, luv?” the barista said. 

“Er—” Harry shook his head. “I guess I’ll have the same—”

“Oh, please. You’re not ready for that.” Malfoy huffed. “He’ll have a mocha.” 

“You got it!” 

As the barista turned away and began making their drinks, Harry looked at Malfoy. “What am I getting?” 

“It’s a mix of hot chocolate and cappuccino.” Malfoy made a face. “With your sweet tooth, it should be acceptable. Now pay the lady and I’ll pick out a table.” 

“Er—” Harry bit his lip. “How about the chairs by that far fireplace?” he suggested. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but his lips curved upwards. “Fine. Just bring the drinks when they’re done.” 

Nodding, Harry watched the barista work. By the time she handed him the drinks, and identifying them for him, he was impressed. “Thanks,” he said after paying.

She winked. “You’re welcome, luv. Now go give your boyfriend his coffee. I bet he’ll cheer right up once you do that.” 

Harry gaped at her. “He’s not my—” But she’d already turned to the next customer. 

Shaking his head, Harry carefully carried the drinks over to where Malfoy was seated. After handing over the larger cup, he settled into a chair. 

Malfoy took a sip of his coffee, humming in obvious satisfaction. 

“You really like coffee, hm?” Harry said, watching him. 

Malfoy nodded at the cup in Harry’s hand. “Have you tried yours yet?” 

Gingerly, Harry did, gasping at the mix of chocolate, coffee, and milk. “Wow, that’s delicious.” 

Malfoy smirked. “Welcome to the civilized world, Potter.” With his legs crossed in his smart suit, he looked the epitome of elegant sophistication. “It’s a shame I had to drag you, kicking and screaming.” 

Feeling mischievous, Harry hummed. “I don’t remember any screaming,” he said. “Plus, you should know for future reference, I’m not really a screamer. I’m more of a moaner.” 

Malfoy, who’d been in the middle of taking a sip, sputtered, gaping at him. His eyes narrowed. “Was that an attempt at flirting?” 

Ouch! Harry sighed. “Apparently a failed one?”

“Actually,” said Malfoy, a small smile crossing his face, “don’t be hasty.” He raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Did you plan this whole thing? Was this a ruse to get me out on a date with you?” 

“I—”

“Well done, Potter.” Malfoy raised his mug in salute. “Almost Slytherin. What’s your next ploy?” 

Ploy? “Er…dinner?” Harry suggested. 

“Love to.” Malfoy tipped back his mug, draining it. “Where are we going?”

“Do you like Indian?” Harry asked, drinking his mocha as fast as he could. “I know this great take-away close to my place—”

“Take away?” Malfoy stared at Harry for a moment. “Are you inviting back to yours on our first date, Potter? Because you should know, I may be Slytherin, but I don’t fuck on the first date.” 

Harry coughed, looking around to be sure no one else was close enough to hear. “Who says I do?” he hissed. 

Malfoy snorted. “Please. If I decided I wanted you, you’d be flat on your back with me riding your cock in moments.” 

Harry’s breath caught in his throat at that imagery. “I was just trying to be nice, Malfoy. I wasn’t trying to pull you—”

“Oh sod off,” Malfoy muttered, and, leaning close, he slid his hand around the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him close. As Malfoy kissed him, Harry found himself responding, relaxing into the kiss, allowing Malfoy’s tongue into his mouth, tilting his head as his own tongue stroked the wet surfaces of Malfoy’s mouth. When Malfoy drew back, Harry was panting. 

Licking his lips, he looked around, spotting the barista, who was watching them. When their eyes met, she grinned, giving him a thumbs up. Embarrassed, Harry looked away. 

“So, what was that about not trying to pull me?” Malfoy purred, smirking. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “All right, fine. I didn’t start out trying to pull you.” 

“Hm.” Malfoy inclined his head. “Very well. As it happens, I adore Indian food.” 

Harry nodded. “Brilliant.” He smirked. “Although, technically, wouldn’t dinner be our _second_ date since _this_ is the first?” 

Malfoy’s mouth dropped open. “Potter!” 

Harry laughed. “Just kidding.” 

But Malfoy was shaking his head. “No. It’s brilliant.” Rising, he pulled Harry out of his chair. “Let’s go.” And, as he dragged Harry towards the door, he murmured, “By the way, in case you wondered, I _do_ fuck on second dates.” 

Once he’d absorbed those words, Harry almost stumbled in his haste to get to the door. 

As they passed the counter, the barista waved. “Have a great evening, lads!” she called after them. 

Harry grinned. It looked like it would be at that. 

~


End file.
